Didn't Have the Heart for It
by Indigo Code
Summary: England tries his best to be a gentleman around Reader-chan because he "doesn't like to make enemies". Seeing how shy she is, he invites her for some tea at a fancy-shmancey cafe. EnglandxShy!Country!Reader. My first reader-chan insert . It took me a while to finish it, so I hope it was worth the effort. I also posted this on my DeviantART account of the same name.


_Knock Knock Knock!_

Three, simple knocks on the maple-wood announced his company. Rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, he peered over his shoulder vigilantly, as if he was on the run, about to be caught at any given second. Patience wasn't a notable characteristic in him, so he knocked again, the thumps a bit heavier in sound. Now biting his lip, he thought about making a dash for it. But as he put one foot in the other direction, the door handle turned, giving off a soft _click_.

"England?"

The man known as England winced and silently hissed at himself, but spun back around to meet the greeter.

"Hello… _Canada_, is it?"

"You've never visited me before… W- What brings you here?" Canada asked, his voice slightly above his usual feeble whisper.

With hands delicately folded to achieve humbleness, England steadily answered to him,

"It's about (Country Name)."

A ghost of a smirk suddenly flashed across Canada's face.

"Oh, (Name) left… She won't be back for another thirty minutes."

"I'm very well aware of that. May I come in?"

"_Eh… _Sure – Of course you can…" Canada pulled the door back and invited him in. Taut and proper, England stepped inside, his leather shoes sinking in the plush-like carpet.

"If I may, I want to ask a few questions about (Country Name)."

"What do you want to know?" Canada cocked his head to one side in curiosity.

"You see… Since her country is only one other country away from my own, we will be engaging in a dialogue a bit more often. _Annnd_… I just wanted to know what she isn't fond of, so I know what _not_ to say if I ever talk to her- just so I won't offend her, that's all… I don't like to make enemies."

"… W-What about France?"

"That's not the point I'm trying to get across!"

Canada frightfully backed away at his harsh tone. "Al-Alright! You don't have to shout… I tell you. Just please don't shout."

"My apologies. But, thank you."

England already had a bit of knowledge of her history. She clung to Canada when her nation just formed. He raised her as any guardian would, helped her on her feet, and taught her how to govern her land and how to keep it peaceable. Later on, a war broke out between (Country Name) and Germany, who wanted to gain full possession to keep his own nation stable. Blood had already shed, and countless civilians had already fallen before she eventually prevailed. She never was the same (Name) after that. But she forgave him anyway, hoping to keep any other conflicts from developing in spite. And it worked out in the end; her country thrived once again, free from disruption.

"Hey, hey, England?"

He snapped out of his thoughts at an instant.

"You kinda'… spaced out there for a minute. Are – Are you okay?"

"I'm well, thank you. Please begin."

"Well… For starters, she doesn't like watching country verses country conflict. She doesn't like being around a lot of smoke, or fires… And she hates the sound of gunfire…"

"It's not like I'm going to take her to a bloody gun-show!"

Frustration arose on the features of the once tranquil man, who apparently didn't take England's outburst so kindly. Upon realizing Canada's irritation, England diffidently sunk into the cozy recliner which he invited himself to sit on.

"I… I'm sorry. Continue,"

Canada's shoulders relaxed again as he resumed his speaking,

"She also doesn't like screaming – especially hearing it. And she's a bit squeamish when seeing blood, or wounds. And I… I guess that's about it."

During the entire speech, England wrote each word on his palm with the pen he brought with him to keep him from forgetting. Once he had what he required, said his goodbyes, and left the Canadian's residence.

* * *

The World Meeting had fallen on this particular day, and England was fully equipped, from his systematized baggage down to the neat, scarlet tie around his neck. He checked his palm for the third time, the scribble of words transcribed on it from his visit to Canada's place two weeks prior. When the grandfather clock struck six, he lugged his belongings out the door and drove his way to the conference building.

Rain pattered against the windows noisily as he strolled down the corridor, yet to be occupied by innumerable countries. But he didn't mind; actually, he rather enjoyed it. It would only be a matter of time before the medley of petty arguments would disturb the atmosphere, so he wanted to take in every second of silence.

England coolly pushed the massive doors away from his path into the grand conference room, before spotting a shadowed silhouette in the hazy, yellow light of the hallway lamps.

"Oh, well good morning, Ms. (Country Name). I didn't realize you like to be early to the meetings too." He spoke approachably to the silhouette. Though, he fibbed, already having knowledge from another fellow nation that (Name) preferred to be beyond punctual to any event. England took his seat, which was fortunately placed directly across from her chair.

"How are you doing today? Your nation's doing splendidly, I'm assuming."

(Name) abstained from eye contact, answering with a subtle nod of the head.

"I haven't heard much from you since your country's… bicentennial, was it? I hope everything's alright."

(Name) only nodded again, taking a great interest in the ornamental wristlet around her arm.

_"HEEEEY_, EVERYBODY! THE HERO IS – Wait, am I early?" That familiarly troublesome voice deafened ears as its source kicked the doors wide open.

_"Auggh!_ I knew it! Now I can't _leaaave!"_ The hero plopped down into his seat next to England, whining like a sleep deprived child.

"Wait – I don't think I paused the game. Did I? … I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE. _AUGGH!" _He slammed his head against the table and continued to complain.

"America, would you _please_ shut up. We're all tired too." England groaned to his ally. America gazed at his necktie in a state of indolence, before reaching out to touch it.

"Yo', dude, your tie is hurting my eyes."

England raised his hand, preparing to smack America's hand away, but he looked back to (Name), and remembered one of the "don'ts" Canada mentioned –

_"No country conflict," _

He leisurely lowered his hand back down, and gently picked America's hand off his tie.

"Do you not know what 'personal space' means?" He quietly scorned, differing from his usual – "GOOD LORD, AMERICA, KEEP YOUR GRUBBY FINGERS TO YOURSELF! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WASHED THEM WITH SOAP?!"

"Sorry, bro. I've been playing C.O.D for like – hours – no, wait – days. Heh, I'm practically _blind_ now. Pret-ty _weiiird – Owwww…" _America held his head in pain.

The doors opened again, revealing a haughty Frenchman, a bubbly Italian with his obstinate sibling, an austere German, and plenty of others. They all took their places, acting all but discreet.

"EVERYONE SHOULD BE SEATED." Germany called out over the crowd, silencing the entire room.

"Raise your hand to speak. You vill be allowed eight minutes. Nozhing more – Nozhing less. ZHE MEETING BEGINS _NOW!"_

"Germany! Germany! GERMANY! PICK _ME!"_ Italy squealed, flailing his noodle-arms in the air with eagerness.

"ITALY IS APPROVED TO STATE HIS OPINION."

"Okeydokey! Ahhh… I – I – I _reeeeeeeally_ need to go to the –"

"NO. NEXT,"

_"Buen amigo_, why don't we let someone _else_ run the meeting? _Sí?"_ Spain civilly spoke, catching the attention of the other countries.

"Yah', Germany. You're like – _so_ controlling! Why can't _I_ run the meeting? It'd be like – a _bazillion _times better!" said Poland, who decided to join in the discussion.

"'Bazillion' is not number! Why can't you say words other than 'like'-aru?!" China griped over Poland's lack of accurate phrasing.

"Well, isn't zhis strange?" France hovered over England's shoulder a little too closely, "Zhe black-sheep of Europe isn't contributing to zhe argument. What 'as made zhe little _mouton noir_ so quiet?" He followed England's gaze over to (Name) and formed a sly grin.

_"Ohonhonhonhon…_ It seems you 'ave an _aimer_ for a certain _someone!_ And I zhought you zidn't 'ave zhe 'eart for it. Aw, poor zhing…" He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Shut it, frog," England growled in his usual "speaking to France" tone. France raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'm going to 'ave a little chat, you know… If you zay you zon't mind…" He swung his leg in the other direction, until England clutched his excessively lacey dress-shirt.

"Don't you dare, _Francis."_

France recoiled in astonishment. England _never_ called a country by their given name. He heeded his warning, and slid back into his seat without another word.

"C'MON, GERMANY! I NEED TO _GOOOOOO!"_ Italy wailed, crossing his legs till they went numb.

"As usual, zhis meeting isn't going anyvhere. I'll be leaving now vhile you try to 'compromise' among yourselves." Austria ambled out the doors with a nonchalant farewell.

"Dude, did someone say 'leaving'? TAKE ME WITH YOU!" America chased after him at a breakneck speed, the others soon following.

England pushed his chair back in and walked to the doors, but he didn't leave. Patiently, he waited until the very last country exited, which so happened to be (Country Name).

"Ms. (Country Name)?" He called out. She paused, turning back around to face him.

"Would you like to meet me at Cabrera tomorrow? Since it's been so long, I thought it would be nice if we could catch up."

She thought it over for a bit, before giving a small smile and a nod.

"Brilliant! How about – ah – five? Five o'clock? Is – Is that's alright?"

She answered with another nod.

"Perfect, I'll meet you at the Cabrera – at five… H-Have a nice day, Ms. (Country Name),"

With a heavy sigh, England listened to the pitter patter of the storm, France's words ringing in the back of his mind.

_"And I zhought you zidn't 'ave zhe 'eart for it." _

"Bloody frog…" He cursed under his breath, before returning wordlessly back to his home.

* * *

Working his way through the bustling horde of cheery individuals, England arrived at the Cabrera, four-thirty marked on his ticking wristwatch. His feet skidded across the polished marble, almost allowing him to lose footing and smack his head against the burlywood tinted walls. Once he found a suitable booth, he rested and opened the plastic sheathed menu.

"I'm glad you decided to come." He welcomed (Name). Without glancing up from her menu, she silently uttered a simple "thank-you" to him.

"It's nothing, Ms. (Country Name)."

"Heh, I haven't visited this old place in years! Looks… strikingly different, I'll say. Much… _louder_ now,"

"And what would you two like to order today?" The waiter arrived shortly after, courteously asking for their choices.

"Do you still have Earl Grey?"

"As a matter of fact, we do, sir."

"Then, I'll just have a cup. And what would you like, Ms. (Country Name)?"

(Name) reached over to his menu, pointing out a specified item from the beverage selection.

"Alright, and she'll have the… Green Tea."

The waiter took their orders and quietly left.

"I never knew you liked tea." England admitted without a second thought.

_"I always have."_ (Name) responded rather quickly, her inaudible demeanor never failing.

Silence broke out between them again, also known as "the most unnerving waiting period of England's life". Luckily, the waiter came to rescue, placing their drinks onto the table.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No, thank you. I think we're good."

England took notice of how (Name)'s hands trembled as she gently lifted her cup and took a sip.

"Are you positive you're alright, miss?"

_"I'm just worn-out… It's been a long day."_

"I understand completely. Would you like to talk about it?"

She didn't give a reply, increasing England's restlessness. His mind raced with uncertainties, doubts, apprehensions.

"Look, Ms. (Country Name), I know it was difficult back then for you, and how much it affected you. And, again, I _absolutely_ understand. I've been through a few hardships myself. And I just want to point out – that if you need anything – I'll be there to help. I'm more than willing to."

(Name)'s (color) eyes grew only the slightest at his sincerity. A split-second later, she fumbled through her hand-bag in a hasty search. Withdrawing a pad of sticky-notes, a pen, and a reasonable amount of coinage, she scribbled out something on the pad, and handed it and the coins over to England's side of the table.

She then did a quick gesture with her hands, pretending to hold a small, rectangular object while pressing imaginary buttons with her thumbs. After mouthing out a second "thank-you", she departed from the café in a blink.

The slightest ache of grief left a pit in England's heart. Did his earnestness trouble her so much that it drove her away? He followed Canada's advice precisely – or, at least he _thought_ he did. He stared at the ink marks in his palm a little longer.

_No conflict_

_No smoking_

_No fires_

_No firearms_

_No screaming_

_No bloodshed_

Maybe Canada left a few offensive issues out of his speech. Or maybe England subconsciously acted out one or more of these offenses. Well, of course, he would've known if he was smoking – or if he carried a weapon in his possession. And he never witnessed any fires nearby, or – Okay, let's cut to the chase – He just didn't know what he did wrong.

He finally took notice of the articles (Name) left for him. Immediately, his fretfulness vanished as he glanced over at the sheet of paper she scribbled on. A string of numbers and dashes in a non-specific order displayed prominently against the plain background of the ivory slip.

(Name)'s phone number.


End file.
